Li Muzhan drew his sword, lightly parrying horizontally.

With a crisp "Clang...", Zhang Ganxuan’s longsword flew from his grip, tumbling several times in the air before being flung far onto the stone lion, striking it with another sharp "Ding!" Zhang Ganxuan stared, dumbfounded, fixed upon him.

The surrounding crowd was equally stunned, glancing from Zhang Ganxuan to Li Muzhan.

Two disciples from the Tianji happened to be exiting the main gate.

They stopped abruptly upon seeing the scene, their eyes wide, muttering, "He isn't messing around, is he?" Li Muzhan slid his sword back into its sheath, clasped his hands in salute, and smiled faintly, "I concede the point, Senior Brother Zhang!" With that, he turned to Li Jian, "I'm leaving first.

If you need anything, find me at the Tianshu." "Mm..." Li Jian nodded dazedly, somewhat lost.

Li Muzhan smiled and inclined his head courteously to the onlookers, then turned and walked away.

He mused inwardly that Zhang Ganxuan, though steady in temperament, was immensely arrogant.

To have achieved the rank of Bronze Armored Guard at such a young age inevitably bred such pride.

With this action, his seemingly indifferent glance would surely be enough to provoke him. "Be careful!" Li Jian suddenly cried out.

With a sharp "Hiss!", a streak of sword light, like a bolt of white silk, flashed past, instantly closing the distance.

Li Muzhan's figure jolted, shifting a full foot sideways, evading the vital spot on his back by the narrowest margin.

A spray of blood burst forth; his left shoulder had been grazed by the blade.

A cold glint enveloped Li Muzhan.

Zhang Ganxuan’s eyes were bloodshot, his expression ferocious.

Without a word, he swung his sword maniacally, like a dervish possessed.

Li Muzhan moved with effortless grace, stepping through the torrent of sword light as if strolling in a garden, a secret smile playing in his heart. "Senior Brother Zhang, you—!" Li Jian roared angrily.

A youth glared and shouted back, "Li Jian, shut your mouth!" This youth had an unremarkable face, with narrow, icy eyes that held a distinct, imposing aura.

Li Jian glanced over, recognizing him as Zhang Ping'an, a man who always trailed Zhang Ganxuan, an Iron Armored Guard—not as imposing as Zhang Ganxuan, but certainly formidable.

Zhao Shangren and Chang Zhiming stared at the confrontation, looks of indignation crossing their faces, clearly disapproving of the display.

The two youths by the main gate were also discussing in low tones.

A round-faced youth shook his head, "Senior Brother Zhang is resorting to sneak attacks; it’s dishonorable, truly..." "Shh—!" The other, a square-faced youth, quickly put a finger to his lips, whispering urgently, "Are you tired of living? Can we afford to offend Senior Brother Zhang?" "But this is just bullying!" The round-faced youth lowered his voice, glancing around.

Thankfully, everyone was focused on the action, paying them no mind.

He grumbled, "Not only taking advantage of his junior, but now a sneak attack too!" The square-faced youth shook his head. "If you want to curse Senior Brother Zhang, go practice your martial arts and make it to Bronze Armored Guard first!" "What's wrong with Li Jian?" the round-faced youth asked.

The square-faced youth glanced over and shook his head. "I don't know.

Could it be that Senior Brother Zhang bullied Li Jian again?" The round-faced youth snorted in anger. "Senior Brother Zhang is too despicable! When I become a Bronze Armored Guard, I’ll teach him a good lesson!" "Just hold your tongue for now.

Be careful what you say!" the square-faced youth cautioned, eyes fixed on the central fight. "Senior Brother Zhang, stop this!" Li Muzhan walked with leisure amidst the ceaseless sword light, yet not a single edge managed to graze his robes.

However, drops of blood continued to fall, his left shoulder wound having gone unattended.

Zhang Ganxuan let out cold sneers but remained silent, his eyes bloodshot, face contorted in a savage mask, swinging his sword with the frenzy of a madman, creating a storm of steel.

The murmurs around them swelled until a crowd of over thirty people had gathered, standing some ten zhang distance away, pointing and whispering.

Zhang Ganxuan knew they were talking about him, but there was only one path before his eyes: defeat this bald monk, and only then could he stand justified and silence their chatter. "If you don't stop, don't blame me for being merciless!" Li Muzhan frowned, his expression turning cold, though his eyes held a faint, almost mocking smile.

His sword remained sheathed; he relied solely on his Qinggong for evasion.

His swordplay might not be masterful, his physical movements lagging behind his thoughts, but his vision was piercing, allowing him to spot every flaw in the sword style, coupled with the 'Fleeting Light, Shadowy Trace' Qinggong, enabling his ease.

Though he called for a halt, his eyes were provocative, ceaselessly fueling Zhang Ganxuan’s rage.

As expected, Zhang Ganxuan, blinded by fury, disregarded everything, his sword style growing even more frantic, like enraged waves battering the reef, relentless and unending.

The surroundings fell silent; only the faint chi chi of the sword slicing the air could be heard.

Everyone held their breath.

With such violent swordplay, Zhanran still refused to draw his own sword, relying solely on evasion—it was far too reckless.

One lapse, one moment of slower movement, and he would be struck.

Unconsciously, the spectators shifted their allegiance to Li Muzhan's side; sympathy for the weaker party was a fundamental human nature. "Alas...

Senior Brother Zhang, you forced my hand!" Li Muzhan sighed, shaking his head.

A cold light suddenly flashed at his waist, vanishing instantly.

The storm of sword light abruptly dispersed.

Li Muzhan sheathed his sword, glanced at Zhang Ganxuan, sighed one last time, turned, and drifted away, disappearing into the depths of the willow grove in the blink of an eye.

The onlookers gasped, all turning their gaze toward Zhang Ganxuan.

Zhang Ganxuan clutched his abdomen and collapsed softly. "Senior Brother Zhang! Senior Brother Zhang!" Zhang Ping'an rushed forward, supporting him.

But Zhang Ganxuan seemed boneless, sucking in cold breaths through his teeth.

He released his lower abdomen and fiercely grabbed Zhang Ping'an's arm, his face etched with terror. "Junior Brother Zhang, I...

I..." Ignoring the pain in his arm, Zhang Ping'an urgently asked, "Senior Brother Zhang, where are you hurt?" The other three also gathered around, looking at him with concern, their eyes sweeping to his lower abdomen. "My...

my internal power!" Zhang Ganxuan’s voice hissed, utterly terrified, veins bulging on the back of his hand as he gripped Zhang Ping'an's arm desperately.

Zhang Ping'an quickly twisted his wrist, freeing one arm, and pressed down on Zhang Ganxuan's wrist.

His expression changed: "This...

this is...?" Another man reached out to check Zhang Ganxuan's wrist, his face shifting. "He's losing his internal energy?" Zhang Ping'an commanded, "Junior Brother Lu, go fetch the Eldest Miss, and Elder An.

I will use my internal force to stabilize him!" He added, "Senior Brother Zhang, quickly sit down.

I will help you!" Zhang Ganxuan's eyes were fixed blankly ahead, his face contorted with dread. "My internal power...

my internal power..." "Senior Brother Zhang!" Zhang Ping'an roared, the sound like a thunderclap.

Zhang Ganxuan flinched, and clarity returned to his eyes.

Zhang Ping'an pushed him down, placing both palms on his Dantian, slowly circulating his energy, and stated firmly, "Senior Brother Zhang, stop panicking.

It will be alright!" Senior Brother Lu turned and fled, his steps swift, like a gust of wind sweeping past Li Jian, vanishing in an instant.

The crowd buzzed with speculation, pointing fingers, uncertain what injury Zhang Ganxuan had sustained.

Zhang Ping'an opened his eyes and swept a cold gaze across the crowd. "Get away from here, all of you! Don't obstruct us!" The crowd scattered like startled birds.

Li Jian hesitated, but Zhao Shangren quickly urged, "Junior Brother Li, let's go!" Zhang Ping'an’s gaze lingered on Li Jian for a moment, followed by a cold snort, before he closed his eyes again, concentrating on circulating his power.

The other two glared furiously at Li Jian.

One sneered, "Junior Brother Li, you collude with outsiders to injure Senior Brother Zhang.

You’ve certainly made a name for yourself!" Li Jian quickly shook his head. "Senior Brother Cheng, I..." Another youth waved his hand, his eyes locked on Zhang Ganxuan, impatiently saying, "Junior Brother Cheng, forget it.

We'll settle accounts with him another day!" The youth acknowledged this with a grunt and glared fiercely at Li Jian. "Scram—!" Li Jian's heart trembled, intimidated by the hostile look, and his face turned pale. "Junior Brother Li, this time it’s big trouble!" Zhao Shangren said with a grave expression as they arrived at a large courtyard.

This courtyard was nearly the size of the Tianshu, but its layout was simpler: green bamboo encircled three sides, and in the center stood several rockeries, before which sat a stone table surrounded by six stone stools.

Chang Zhiming followed behind, shaking his head and sighing. "Things have escalated! Senior Brother Zhang’s arrogance has finally met its match!" The two pulled Li Jian along, acting exceptionally friendly.

Li Jian didn't resist, still lost in thought about the recent events, shaking his head with a wry smile.

Muzhan had been audacious since childhood, causing endless trouble, often taking the blame himself.

Li Jian had hoped that growing up and becoming an eminent monk would temper him somewhat.

But human nature is hard to change.

After entering the Mei Estate, he first killed the head of the Kaiyang, and now he has injured Senior Brother Zhang—he truly causes trouble! He sighed. "It's all because of me..." "You can't be blamed," Zhao Shangren countered, shaking his head.

He sat down before the rockery in the courtyard center and sighed. "Senior Brother Zhang harbors a deep, devoted affection for Senior Sister Gong; he was bound to cause trouble for Junior Brother Zhanran sooner or later!" Chang Zhiming smiled. "Li Jian, I never realized you were such a good friend of Junior Brother Zhanran!" Li Jian scratched his head and offered a bitter smile.

Zhao Shangren suddenly understood. "No wonder the Tianshu has been looking after you—it’s because of Junior Brother Zhanran!" Chang Zhiming chuckled. "Junior Brother Li, don't worry.

With what Junior Brother Zhanran just did, I doubt they’ll dare trouble you again!" Li Jian smiled bitterly. "I wonder how serious Senior Brother Zhang’s injury is..." Zhao Shangren pondered. "It must be serious, enough to involve the Eldest Miss and summon Elder An...

I fear his life might be in danger." "Alas..." Li Jian shook his head, unconvinced.

One must always leave a line of retreat for future encounters.

Muzhan's blow was too severe; he has created a formidable enemy! He was intelligent enough to know that this temper of his...

Li Muzhan left the Tianji.

He touched a few spots on his left shoulder, staunching the bleeding, utterly unconcerned, his steps swift, his thoughts flying free.

That strike hadn't pierced deeply; there was no apparent external wound, but the internal energy, like a drill, had directly destroyed Zhang Ganxuan’s Dantian, rendering him a cripple.

Inflicting such a vicious injury was purely an act of deterrence.

Because of Gong Qingyun, he had already offended too many people, and Li Jian was inevitably a target.

Furthermore, his rapid rise had not won the respect of the majority; the Tianshu was already a lightning rod for scrutiny.

There would be no shortage of provocateurs, so establishing dominance was necessary to prevent future trouble.

These considerations flashed through his mind in mere moments; his own mental processing speed was accelerating.

As for punishment, he felt no fear.

Zhang Ganxuan had initiated the conflict, then attacked from behind, injuring him first.

Moreover, no life was taken, so the matter was not insurmountable.

The moment he stepped outside the Mei Estate, his thoughts immediately shifted.

All previous concerns were cast aside; he focused entirely on home: How were his parents? His second sister? His elder sister-in-law? His elder brother? Outside the Tianji.

Mei Ruolan stood frowning, her purple robes flowing elegantly, her demeanor graceful and composed.

Xiao Yuan stood behind her; the two formed a refreshing tableau.

Elder An was crouched down, examining Zhang Ganxuan, his expression grave.

Zhang Ganxuan had lost consciousness.

Zhang Ping'an and the other three stood to the side, dejected, resentment subtly visible.

In their eyes, this Zhanran was viciously cruel, delivering such a merciless blow! "Elder An, what is the situation?" Mei Ruolan asked, her brow furrowed.

Elder An looked up and offered a bitter smile. "His Dantian is destroyed.

His martial arts are completely gone!" "Can it be restored?" Mei Ruolan's delicate brows knitted even tighter. "...I fear not," Elder An sighed, shaking his head. "Who delivered such a ruthless strike?" "The Tianshu's Zhanran!" Zhang Ping'an stated heavily, grinding his teeth.

Xiao Yuan cried out in shock, "How did you provoke him?!" Zhang Ping'an glanced at Xiao Yuan, dissatisfied. "It was just a routine verbal spat.

We never expected him to use such poison! We ask the Eldest Miss to deliver justice!" "Mm, I will investigate thoroughly," Mei Ruolan nodded lightly. "Elder An, do your best to treat him!" Elder An stood up and stated plainly, "There are no external wounds; some tonic medicine for recuperation should suffice." Mei Ruolan instructed, "Ping'an, you four carry him inside, then proceed to Qiyuan!" "Yes, Eldest Miss!" The four responded.

Mei Ruolan turned and walked away, her face cold, her lips pressed into a tight line.

Xiao Yuan shot them a glare before quickly following after her.